


Just a young heart

by notallballs (notallbees)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Crush, First Kiss, Height Differences, M/M, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Asahi looked down at him with wide, trusting eyes and smiled faintly. “You—you'll have my back?”</p>
  <p>Nishinoya squeezed the back of his neck. “Always, Asahi-kun. You can rely on me.”</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>AU in which the first and third years' ages are swapped, and Nishinoya gets to be senpai to his mop-headed baby ace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a young heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mousecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousecat/gifts).



> For the lovely mousecat, who followed me without question into this land of a hundred ships.

First practice of the year, and Nishinoya just _had_ to be late. At least Yamaguchi-san was a hell of a lot nicer than last year’s captain. Nishinoya felt light, almost buzzing with anticipation as he hurriedly changed in the empty clubroom, leaving his uniform in a crumpled mess on the bench. 

He bolted out of the door when he was done, hurrying across to the second gym. It had only been a couple of weeks since he played with his teammates, but it felt like months, and he was excited to meet the new recruits, to feel their team start to knit together into something new. 

He rounded the corner too fast, realising too late that there was someone standing outside the door to the gym. There was no time to slow down, and they collided with a _whump_. 

“Woah!” Nishinoya yelled, stumbling backward. He landed on his ass, lucky enough to fall on a patch of grass that cushioned his fall, but the kid he ran into barely swayed from the impact. Nishinoya took stock quickly, but he was all good, no lasting damage. He sprang back to his feet to find the other boy staring at him, a look of frozen terror on his face. “Hey, buddy, you okay?” Nishinoya said, peering around him at the gym. “How come you're hanging around outside the door?”

The boy yelped and dropped to the floor in an abject bow. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he babbled, his mop of dark hair falling over his face. “Are you alright? I'm so stupid, I shouldn't have been standing there, sorry!”

Nishinoya laughed. “Hey, dude, chill out.” It must be a new student; Nishinoya was pretty sure he'd recognise any of the second or third years, and the kid was too big to be a first year. Understanding dawned suddenly. “Hey! Are you a transfer student? That's so cool! Where did you transfer from? Did you move far? Do you like it? Torono is kinda boring, huh? Oh, but Karasuno has the best uniform, right? Ooh, the girls’ uniform is so cute!”

The boy brushed his messy hair aside and looked up at Nishinoya anxiously. “Uh—um, no, I'm not a transfer. I'm a first year.”

Nishinoya stared. “What! No way! How tall are you? Stand up and lemme see!”

With a startled gasp, the boy scrambled to his feet. He had to be at least a hundred and seventy-five centimetres, maybe a hundred and eighty. Noya stood on his tiptoes so he could look the kid in the face, not that it was easy with the way he seemed to hunch and tried to hide behind his hair. 

“Wow, buddy, you're pretty big,” Nishinoya said approvingly. He slapped the boy’s upper arm and raised his eyebrows at some pretty impressive guns for a fifteen-year-old. The kid was obviously just starting to fill out too; in a couple of years he'd be a tank. “What're you doing here anyway?”

The kid straightened up, pressing his arms firmly against his sides, his big eyes going wide and frightened. “I—I'm here for v—volleyball club,” he stammered. “I put in an application.”

Nishinoya laughed at him. “Well, you can go inside, there's no need to wait—”

“ _Idiot! Dumbass!_ ”

They both froze at the sound of yelling from within the hall. 

Nishinoya groaned. “Aw, what the hell.”

“Yeah, um,” the kid muttered sheepishly, casting a nervous glance at the door. “I was gonna go in, but there was all this yelling and stuff—”

Nishinoya rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that's pretty standard around here. Better get used to it if you wanna stick around.” He grabbed the boy's wrist. “Come on. I'm Nishinoya Yuu by the way, I'm a second year.”

“O—oh! Nishinoya-san! Ah—are you the manager?” the kid asked, before being overtaken by a wild-eyed look of panic. “Oh no! I knocked down a second year,” he wailed. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry—”

“Yeah yeah,” Nishinoya muttered, waving him off. “Don't start that again. Come on, let's go in.” He tugged on the boy's arm, unsurprised when he barely moved. “Oh, hey, what's your name?”

“A—Asahi,” he said quickly. “Ah! I mean, Azumane! Azumane Asahi. Is my name. I'm sorry!”

Nishinoya grinned at him. “Are you always this nervous, Asahi-kun?”

Asahi wilted. “ _Yes_.”

“Too bad,” Nishinoya said, letting go of his wrist to pat him on the shoulder. “Oh hey, why'd you ask if I'm the manager?”

 

 

Nishinoya loved bus rides. He was sitting near the back, commentating the view in a low, excitable stream of chatter for Tanaka, when Sugawara weaved his way back along the aisle. He climbed into the seat in front of Nishinoya on his knees so that he could lean over the top.

“Nishinoya-san,” he said in a low voice. “May I speak with you?”

“Ah, sure!” Nishinoya spared a glance for Tanaka, who appeared to be dozing on Ennoshita’s shoulder, and grinned. “Looks like I lost my audience anyway. What’s up, Suga-kun?”

Suga glanced over his shoulder, then he leaned closer, folding his arms on the back of the seat. Nishinoya shuffled forward to listen. 

“I’m worried about Azumane-kun,” he said, his brown eyes very wide and serious. “I know he’s always anxious about stuff, but he seems really bad today. I can hardly get a word of sense out of him. I think he’s really panicking about the match.”

Nishinoya frowned. “Huh. But he played in junior high, didn’t he?”

Sugawara shrugged. “I don’t think the Seikoudai team took tournaments very seriously. It was mostly just playing for fun, I guess.”

“Ah,” Nishinoya said, as if he understood. Chidoriyama was competitive as hell; Nishinoya trained his _ass_ off to make starter in junior high, and while Karasuno is much more relaxed than that, he still remembered only too well the pressure on them to win, no matter what, for the pride of the school. Maybe Asahi felt that way now. “I’ll talk to him,” he said, getting to his feet. He put his hand on Sugawara’s shoulder and grinned. “You’re a good friend, Suga-kun. You’re gonna be a brilliant setter, too.”

Sugawara blushed, which _might_ have been the cutest thing Nishinoya had ever seen in his entire life. He couldn’t resist the urge to ruffle Sugawara’s hair, thought it earned him a scandalised look and a weary complaint of “Nishinoya-sa—an!” 

“Walk it off, Sugawara,” Kageyama said quietly from across the row, smirking at them. He patted the empty seat beside him, and after a moment’s consideration, Sugawara threw himself down with a huff. Nishinoya cast them a fond look as he headed down the bus toward the other first years. Kageyama never got the hang of being senpai to him and the other second years, though Hinata and Yamaguchi fell into that role as easy as falling over, and it was nice to see him finally find a kouhai to suit his inward personality.

“Hey, Asahi-kun,” Nishinoya said, elbowing Sawamura out of the way and throwing himself down in the seat beside Asahi.

“Ah, Nishinoya-senpai.”

Nishinoya tried really hard not to blush. In truth, he didn’t feel like he'd been much of a senpai to Asahi so far, but he was determined to try. This time, however, Asahi didn’t even seem to know he'd said it. His voice was dull and quiet, his eyes staring blindly at the back of the seat in front.

“Hey,” Nishinoya said, nudging him gently. “Sugawara-kun asked me to come and talk to you. He said he thought you might be nervous.” 

“N—nervous?” Asahi mumbled, turning to him with a vacant look. “No—I'm n—not nervous.”

“Oh yeah?” Nishinoya asked, grinning a little. “Because Suga seemed to think you were about to hurl all over the place.”

Asahi shook his head, looking back down at his lap. “I'm not gonna be sick.” He was gripping his gym bag so tightly that his knuckles were white. “And I'm not— _nervous_. I'm _terrified_.”

Nishinoya reached up and wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders. “Hey, what do you have to be nervous about, huh? There’s no need for you to be so scared, Asahi-kun! I mean, you're not even a starter—”

“Noya!” Hinata shouted from across the row. “Don't say it like that!”

“I know what I'm doing!” Nishinoya yelled back. He turned back to Asahi and shook him roughly. “It doesn't matter if you're on the court or not, you're still part of our team, Asahi. You're still one of us, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Nishinoya laughed. “And believe me, the other team will be just as nervous when they see you! You're big and strong-looking, and they'll probably think you're gonna kick their ass!”

“Keep it down, Yuu,” Ennoshita said, aiming a solid kick to the back of his seat. 

Asahi had gone pale. “I—I'm not gonna kick anyone's ass,” he mumbled. 

“You don't have to!” Nishinoya said, grinning wide. “And more importantly, you know what?”

“Um, what?”

“When you get on the court, it doesn't matter if you fu—uhh—if you mess up, because I'll have your back, Asahi-kun.” 

“Why do we let him talk to people?” Tsukishima said mildly. 

Nishinoya ignored him. It didn't matter what any of the stupid third years said, because Asahi looked down at him with wide, trusting eyes and smiled faintly. “You—you'll have my back?”

Nishinoya squeezed the back of his neck. “Always, Asahi-kun. You can rely on me.” 

 

 

Asahi finally got his chance in the middle of the second set. They were only down by three points but they’d spent the whole set chasing, and everyone was getting tired and demoralised. They had to change the momentum, and fast.

Hinata had just stolen a point with a lucky slide attack, but everyone on the court could feel that he wouldn’t be getting the next one so easily. He'd been needling at the other team for the entire match so far, and it was clear that they were getting bored of his interference. The blockers had finally learned to read his and Kageyama’s quick, and they were starting to put the pressure on. 

Nishinoya watched from the back of the court as Asahi stood by the net, the #1 panel in his hand shaking so much that Noya could see it from two meters away. 

“Asahi!” he shouted, as Hinata accepted the plastic number from him and Asahi took one trembling step onto the court. He looked up at the sound of his name, and Nishinoya could see that his face was blank with terror. 

Nishinoya grinned at him and punched his own chest. “I've got your back, remember?” he yelled. “Go for the kill, Asahi-kun!”

Asahi's face went slack for a moment with surprise, then he gave Nishinoya a small, nervous smile, and nodded. 

“Alright, alright!” Yamaguchi yelled, clapping his hands and exchanging a determined look with Tsukishima. “Let's go for the win! Karasuno, fight!”

Nishinoya made sure to cheer the loudest, even more than Hinata, which always took some doing. It was worth it though. He wanted to make sure Asahi heard his voice in particular. 

Almost seconds after they resumed, the other team got a ball past Tsukishima—enough in itself to put everyone on edge—which brought their strongest server back around in the rotation. Nishinoya dropped his hips, unwilling to give them another service ace, but even before the ball hit the other captain’s hand, he could see that it had been aimed carefully to hit their untested player. 

“Asahi!” he shouted, not before the ball had hit Asahi’s right forearm hard enough to bruise. 

Nishinoya saw it as if in slow motion; Asahi grounding himself to receive the ball, his shocked face as it made contact. Nishinoya leapt to the side, putting himself in the way of the ball’s rebound. He felt it connect with his fist, caught a glimpse of the ball go up, before he went ass over ear. 

“Nice receive!”  
“Yuu!”  
“Nishinoya-san!”

He rolled to his knees and sat up; the ball was bouncing away on the far side of the court, and Tanaka was hollering loudly. They’d pulled off a quick. Nishinoya grinned. 

“N—nice receive, Nishinoya-san,” Asahi said, bending down to offer him a hand. 

Nishinoya grabbed his wrist and let Asahi haul him up. “Nice receive yourself,” he yelled, punching Asahi in the shoulder. “I’d never have saved that if you hadn’t touched it first!”

Asahi went crimson. “I—I just—”

While he was babbling, Nishinoya glanced at Kageyama and grinned when he saw Kageyama’s fingers tapping against his thigh. “Hey, Asahi,” he muttered, cutting off the boy’s anxious voice. “You ready for that kill?”

To his delight, Asahi grinned back at him. 

Nishinoya switched out with Sawamura. His spikes weren’t that strong or accurate yet, but he was a steady, solid receiver. Nishinoya always looked forward to working with him every practice; he was more sensible than the other first years, which was saying a lot, but it meant he had an almost unshakeable focus on the court, and _that_ Noya could respect. 

Sugawara and the other second years welcomed him into the box, high-fiving him and slapping him on the back. “They’re doing the synch attack?” Ennoshita murmured in his ear. “Azumane’s barely had time to practice this.”

Nishinoya nodded. “He can do it.”

“Nishinoya-san?” It was Sugawara, his voice gentle but firm. “Thank you,” he said, looking up at Nishinoya admiringly.

“Eh, shut up, Suga-kun,” Nishinoya said with an embarrassed smile. “I’d do the same for all of you. Asahi knows that.”

Sugawara just smiled at him and turned his attention back to the match. 

Yamaguchi was next to serve, and despite having played one set already, the opposing team still fell for his float serve twice before a middle blocker finally received it. 

“Nice serve, Yamaguchi-san!” Sugawara shrieked, leaping into the air. Nishinoya felt bad for him, being the only first year on the bench. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was why Kageyama had taken an interest in him, that maybe it was guilt at the knowledge that Sugawara would spend the whole of his first year watching from the sidelines. But if Kageyama could pass on even half of his ridiculous techniques to Sugawara, the team would be in good stead for next year. 

“Here it comes,” Ennoshita said, when Sawamura-kun received the opponent’s spike. 

Nishinoya held his breath. Almost before Ennoshita finished speaking, everyone started to run at once. Asahi, Tsukishima and Tanaka made up the main force of the attack, with Yamaguchi charging from the back row, and it was clear that the other team couldn’t decide who their opponent was. Tsukishima was tall enough to evade their blocks with his height alone; Tanaka was strong and his straights were deadly, but they obviously guessed that Karasuno wouldn’t switch Asahi in and expect him to do nothing. 

The blockers spread themselves too thinly. One of them took Tanaka, while the other two threw themselves in front of Asahi. Nishinoya’s heart pounded in his ears. If they took this point, they would pull ahead. 

Asahi jumped, the muscles in his legs and back mesmerising to watch. He snapped his arm forward, and Nishinoya felt his breath seize in his chest when the ball slammed through the tall blocker’s hands. It bounced right on the line, centimetres short of their libero’s fingertips. Everyone held their breath.

The whistle blew, and the red flag stayed down

Nishinoya _screamed_. Hinata yelled and threw his arms around Nishinoya and the two of them jumped up and down on the spot, laughing and shouting. 

Asahi looked around, dazed, as every Karasuno player on the court rushed over to slap his shoulders and raised their hands to high-five him. Tanaka threw an arm around his shoulders, probably deafening him with how loud he was yelling, but Asahi just smiled and let himself be jostled and celebrated. Finally, he looked around, his nose wrinkling, until he caught sight of Nishinoya on the sidelines. 

“Nice kill!” Nishinoya yelled again, cupping his hands around his mouth. 

Asahi’s mouth parted, showing his teeth as he offered Nishinoya a grin, maybe the first time that he’d seen Asahi really smile, with nothing clouding it. Nishinoya’s heart pounded in his ears.

 

 

“Are you sad about the third years leaving?” 

Nishinoya reached over to snatch a piece of chicken from Asahi’s bento and shrugged as he ate it. “I mean, yeah? They've been amazing, and you're never gonna see anything like Kageyama and Hinata's quick again. But I’m real excited for Chikara to take over as captain, you know? He’s worked hard, and he’ll be great at it.”

Asahi smiled and pushed the rest of his lunch closer to Nishinoya. “Yeah, he will.”

“Aw, come on,” Nishinoya said, leaning back with a rueful smile. “It’s no fun if you just give it to me.”

“Fine,” Asahi said, looking down to hide his smile. “Please stop stealing my bento.”

Nishinoya grinned. “Nope.” He reached out again, but this time Asahi’s arm shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could steal anything. “A—Asahi-kun,” he said, laughing off his surprise. “No fair, you’re stronger than I am.”

“And how can I keep up my strength if you steal all my food?” Asahi teased, finally chancing to look up at him. “You’re always telling me I should eat more, Noya-san.”

Nishinoya tugged and Asahi released his wrist. “I just say that so I can steal the extra,” he lied, turning away to hide the way he felt suddenly hot and foolish. Asahi continued to pick at his lunch thoughtfully; Nishinoya couldn’t help but watch. It was so frustrating to watch people eat slowly. 

Asahi pushed his hair out of his eyes a couple of times, sighing in frustration when it just kept falling back in the way. 

“You know, Asahi-kun,” Nishinoya said, sliding closer on the bench with a wry smile. “I bet my little sister has some extra headbands lying around. She has one with daisies on, you’d look really cute in it.”

“I—yeah,” Asahi muttered, bowing his head slightly so that his hair completely covered his eyes from view. “I should get one.”

Nishinoya frowned a little. He worried, briefly, that he'd gone too far. He couldn’t imagine anyone as strong and masculine as Asahi being teased for looking girly, even with his unruly hair, but maybe Nishinoya had embarrassed him. “Hey!” he said, leaning closer. He reached up and brushed a few strands of Asahi’s hair to one side, tucking it behind his ear. “Anyone in there? Asahi-kun?”

“Noya—a,” Asahi whined. 

Nishinoya’s fingers brushed Asahi’s cheek. He was bright red, his skin hot with the sudden rush of blood to his face. “Asahi,” Noya whispered. He moved his fingertips over Asahi’s cheekbone, and brushed back another strand of loose hair. “I—I really like your hair, you know? You don’t have to change it, I like it, I just thought you might want to tie it back so you can see better, and that way it wouldn’t bother you during practice, and—”

“Nishinoya-san,” Asahi muttered, interrupting him suddenly. He was biting his lip, his fingers fisted tightly in the material of his school trousers. “Please,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “Don’t—don’t tease me in front of everyone.”

“Shit,” Nishinoya hissed, jerking back from him. “I mean—uh, shoot. Fuck. I’m sorry, Asahi-kun—”

Asahi shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay.” His hair slipped and he reached up to tuck it behind his ear again, his fingers lingering against his earlobe where Nishinoya had touched him. “I don’t m—mind.” He looked up finally, his dark gaze settling on Nishinoya for just a moment before skittering away again. “There are just—a lot of people.”

Nishinoya nodded. “Okay.”

 

 

It was at their second summer training camp together that Nishinoya started to notice how different Asahi had become. 

The first four weeks of summer break passed in a haze of volleyball training, helping out in his dad’s salon, and trying desperately to get some sleep when _everything_ felt too hot. Nishinoya began to feel like a zombie, trundling to and from practice; on and off the court; between his house and the salon. 

Finally, sharing popsicles with Tanaka on the bus ride to Tokyo, Nishinoya began to feel as if he was waking up at last. The two of them led the team in some bracing singalongs, earning them the stinkeye from Ukai—and from Ennoshita, until he finally loosened up and joined in. Nishinoya climbed up in his seat and turned around so that he could waved his popsicle stick like a conductor’s baton, pointing at each of the guys in turn to make sure they joined in. 

Sugawara and Sawamura were singing loudly—not surprising, they had a particular affinity for karaoke, even though they were both tone deaf—and all of the first years joined in. There was a bigger crop of them than normal this year, and Nishinoya really hoped that Hinata and Kageyama were planning to make good on their promise to visit the team during training camp. A kick up the ass from some senpai of their caliber would give the first years the motivation they needed. 

“Hey, Ryuu—” Nishinoya hissed, ducking down and elbowing Tanaka in the ribs. “Take over, would you?” He thrust the tacky popsicle stick at Tanaka, who made a face, but accepted his duty like a man. 

Nishinoya swayed down the aisle of the bus, laughing and high-fiving everyone as he went, until he reached the back. Asahi was sprawled in the back row by himself, his long legs tucked up and his chin propped on his knee while he stared out at the changing scenery.

“Hey,” Nishinoya said quietly—well, quietly for him—as he dropped into the seat beside Asahi’s bag. “Something on your mind, kiddo?”

Asahi looked round, startled by Nishinoya’s sudden appearance. “Oh—Noya,” he said, smiling helplessly. “Hey. Sorry, I was miles away.”

Nishinoya grabbed Asahi’s bag and flung it across the row of seats so that he could shuffle closer. “You’ve been distracted the past few weeks,” he said, hoping that it was true. He’d been pretty distracted himself, but the little brain power he’d had left to spare was telling him that Asahi had been even more quiet than usual. 

“Just tired, I guess,” Asahi said, shrugging. “I have a summer job, working with my dad.”

“Oh yeah? What’s he do?”

Asahi shrugged again, smiling amiably. “He just runs a store. I’m, uh—I’m not great with people though, so I’ve basically been hauling crates for a month.”

Nishinoya laughed. “Dude, that’s insane, you’re gonna be so buff.” He reached out for Asahi’s bicep. “Come on, let me feel—”

“Nishinoya—!”

“Yeah, they’re definitely bigger,” Nishinoya said, laughing. “Or, wait, is it just this one? Have you been dragging them all around one-handed?”

Asahi laughed when Nishinoya reached across him for his other arm. “Ah! Noya-san!” he yelped, trying to fend him off. 

“No way, dude,” Nishinoya said, grinning with his teeth. Asahi held both his hands, trying to wrest him away, so Nishinoya slid across and slung his leg over Asahi’s so that he could climb into his lap and overpower him from above. “Submit, Azumane!”

To his surprise, Asahi did so almost immediately. He let go with a suddenness that sent Nishinoya sprawling against his shoulder, but before he could right himself, Asahi wriggled out from under him. Nishinoya half fell, half climbed back into the seat beside him. “Hey—”

“Sorry, Noya-san,” Asahi murmured, staring fixedly out of the window. “I—I have a stomachache.” 

Nishinoya winced in sympathy. “Hey, you want me to ask Shimizu-chan if she brought any medicine? Yachi-san always used to bring medicine because Hinata-san used to get really sick before games, I bet Shimizu will have some as well.”

“Um, no, thank you.”

Nishinoya leaned around to get a look at Asahi’s face, but Asahi just turned fully towards the window. His face was bright red, but beyond that, Nishinoya couldn’t read his expression. 

 

 

The first half of the practice matches passed in relative calm. It felt good to be playing real matches again, but without the third years, the team was still looking to find its strengths and fit them together. At the start of the year, Tanaka, Ennoshita and Nishinoya had more or less held the rest of the team together with string, but things had finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. Still, _comfortable_ wasn’t going to get them to nationals. 

“Ahh,” Sugawara complained, fanning himself with Asahi’s vest while they ate lunch outside the gym. “If I have to do anymore diving penalties today, I won’t be able to set properly.” 

Nishinoya gritted his teeth. “We’re not going to keep losing.”

“We can’t beat them all,” Asahi said, twiddling half a rice ball in his fingers. “We play Fukurodani next, and they’re just too strong. Their ace—”

“Is no match for our libero,” Tanaka yelled, leaning over to pinch the decimated rice ball from Asahi’s fingers. Before anyone could stop him, he shoved it in his mouth and chewed it. Asahi frowned at him. 

Scowling, Nishinoya reached over and slapped the back of Tanaka’s head. “Hey, baldy! Nobody steals food from Asahi-kun except me.”

Tanaka choked on his protest, but Nishinoya ignored him and turned back to Asahi, who was watching him with wide eyes. 

“Hey,” Nishinoya said, leaning in towards him. “Asahi, you’re so brown!”

Asahi looked away. “I—I am? I guess I’ve been working in the sun a lot.”

“And you’ve got fuzz!” Noya yelled, scrambling closer. He grabbed Asahi’s shoulder and rubbed his cheek with the other hand. “Look at this! Ryuu! He’s hairier than you are!”

Tanaka just snorted and kept on eating. Asahi, on the other hand, had gone completely rigid. 

“Go—d,” Nishinoya whined, drawing the sound out. “I look like such a baby compared to the rest of you.” 

Asahi swallowed. “Not compared to Suga,” he said, too low for anyone else to hear.

Nishinoya laughed under his breath, but then he met Asahi's eyes and was surprised by the intensity there. He remembered, suddenly, the promise that he'd forgotten after a month of zombie summer. “Shit,” he muttered, letting go of Asahi and rolling away to put some space between them. “Sorry.” 

Asahi watched him curiously and Nishinoya winced. “Sorry,” he said again, hopefully soft enough that only Asahi would hear. “A lot of people, right?”

To his surprise, Asahi went pink and bowed his head, nodding quickly. It filled Nishinoya with a guilty, leaden sensation. The thing was, he _liked_ to embarrass Asahi. It was enjoyable to watch him blush and squirm, and squawk in protest at Nishinoya's antics, but there seemed to be a fine line between making him blush and making him feel ashamed. Nishinoya definitely didn't want Asahi to feel ashamed. 

“Hey, how's your stomach now?” he asked, looking back at Asahi. When he did, he almost swallowed his tongue.

Asahi had released his hair from its tight ponytail—this summer it was finally long enough to tie back— and was running his fingers through it, combing out the tangles. Nishinoya had a sudden urge to touch it, to bury his fingers deep into Asahi's loose curls and test how they felt wrapped around his hands. He was sitting close enough that he could smell the coconut scent of Asahi's shampoo, and he unconsciously leaned closer, chasing it with the tilt of his head.

Asahi spat out his hair tie and frowned at him. “Nishinoya,” he murmured. “What are you doing?”

Nishinoya inhaled deeply and released it with a happy sigh. “Your hair smells so good, Asahi-kun.”

“Give me strength,” Ennoshita moaned from somewhere off to his left. Tanaka cackled loudly and responded with something like _I know right_ but Nishinoya ignored them. They could complain about the heat all they liked; Nishinoya enjoyed the sun, and he liked the way it had turned Asahi's skin golden brown. All that happened when Nishinoya went in the sun was that he got freckles, and then he got burnt.

The other third years laughed at something; Nishinoya missed the first part, but he caught Ennoshita choking with laughter on the words “ _Save him_ ” before Tanaka came over and kicked him in the thigh. 

“Yo, Noyacchi,” he said, grinning. “Let's practice that back row set.”

Nishinoya tore his gaze from Asahi's hair and blinked up at him. “Huh?”

Tanaka kicked him again, less nicely this time. He pointed at himself and then at Nishinoya, speaking slowly. “You set. Me spike.” He waved his hand in an approximation of his spiking technique to demonstrate. “Come on, Yuu, wake the fuck up.”

“Oi,” Ennoshita snarled, “watch your fucking language.”

“Yeah, Ryuu,” Nishinoya said, grinning up at him. “Watch your fucking language.”

“Yuu! I'll make you run laps in this heat if you don't shut up and go with Tanaka!”

Nishinoya winced. “Yes, captain.”

 

 

Nishinoya flopped gratefully onto his futon as soon as it was set up that night. He was pleasantly full from dinner, squeaky clean from the shower, and more than ready to curl up and go to sleep. 

“Yuu,” Ennoshita said, throwing a pair of balled up socks at him. 

“Ah! What am I, a cat?”

“Go chase the second years out of the bathroom, would you? They've been ages and the first years need their turn.”

“Chikara—a,” Nishinoya whined. “Don't make me do it, I'll be forced to take back everything nice I've ever said about you.”

Ennoshita reached over and pinched his thigh. “Now, please.”

Nishinoya yelped and rolled away from him. “Alright already!” 

Nishinoya passed Sugawara and Sawamura on his way to the bathroom. They confirmed that Asahi was still in there, exchanging a mischievous look that he couldn't quite decipher, before scampering back to the room. 

The bathroom wasn't much further. Nishinoya could hear water running still as he approached the door, and it occurred to him suddenly that if Asahi was washing his hair, Nishinoya would get to smell his shampoo again. He swung the door wide and stepped in. 

“Asahi!” he yelled, letting the door shut behind him. “Are you still here? Ennoshita says it's time to let the first years in!” 

“Ah!” Asahi yelped from the end of the line of showers. “I'm—coming, Noya-san! I'll—I'll be right—there.”

Nishinoya peered into the room. He could just about make out Asahi's large profile, hunched under one of the shower heads. Nishinoya admired his broad shoulders for a moment, wondered what it would be like to skim his hand across them under the water. 

“Asahi-kun,” he said curiously, moving closer when Asahi still didn't turn around. “Are you jerking off?” 

Asahi practically shrieked. “Ah! No! No no no!” 

“It's okay, Asahi-kun,” Nishinoya said cheerfully. He sat down on one of the benches and kicked his feet out. “All the third years do it too. Better in here than in your futon where everyone can hear!” 

“Oh my god, Noya—”

“Also it's way easier to clean up in here.”

Asahi groaned, though not so much in a fun way. “Nishinoya, please—”

“I can sing if you want, that way nobody will hear—” 

“Noya!” Asahi yelled suddenly, grabbing a towel and turning around to him at last. “Just get out, alright?” Even with the towel held in front of him, it didn't do an awful lot to hide Asahi's nakedness from Nishinoya. 

Nishinoya felt his eyes track over Asahi's body, lingering on his abdominal muscles before he registered the anger in Asahi's voice. “Uhh—”

Asahi glared at him. 

“Right,” Noya said, jumping to his feet. “Going. Totally going. Um, but the first years—”

“I’ll be out in a minute, Nishinoya,” Asahi said, deflating somewhat. He looked sort of pathetic now, hunched in on himself, trying helplessly to cover himself with a damp towel. “Please—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nishinoya muttered, guilt swallowing him from the inside out. “I’m gone.”

 

 

“Ryuu! Emergency conference!”

Ennoshita groaned, but Tanaka was already getting to his feet. He gave Ennoshita a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before crossing the room to meet Nishinoya in the doorway. 

“Dude,” he said, taking in Nishinoya’s breathless state; he’d run all the way back from the bathrooms. “What the hell?”

“No no no, not here,” Nishinoya said, grabbing his arm. “Come _on_!”

Tanaka allowed himself to be dragged a short distance along the hallway, but eventually he dug in his heels and pulled Nishinoya up short. “Okay, dude, sunflower, come on—there’s nobody here, just tell me already.”

Nishinoya glanced around them. He’d deliberately led Ryuu in the opposite direction to the bathrooms, but he still didn’t fancy the risk of anyone overhearing him, _especially_ not Asahi. 

“Yuu—come on, man.”

He took a deep breath. “Ryuu, I need you to hit me.”

Tanaka took a step back. “Uh, okay? Any reason?”

“Just—just fucking hit me, man. Hit me hard, okay? I’m an asshole, I deserve it.”

“Woah woah,” Tanaka said, putting his hands on Noya’s shoulders and shaking him gently. “Dude, what’s gotten into you? You're like, the nicest guy I know, it's seriously embarrassing, if you were a chick I'd totally—” 

“Ryuu!” Nishinoya said, groaning. “I know, okay.” He reached up and patted Tanaka's cheek. “Brotp, dude, I got it, but I've kinda got a problem here.”

“Okay, okay, I'm listening.”

Nishinoya took a deep breath. “Uh. Alright, don't actually know how to say this. Just—it might sound weird, so promise not to freak out?”

“Yeah, okay, I promise.”

“Yeah, so—so Chikara sent me to chase the second years out of the baths, but when I got there it was just Asahi, and—”

“Wait, wait,” Tanaka said, holding his hand up. “Cool your jets, girlfriend. Is this about your big homo crush on our baby ace?” 

Nishinoya stared at him, his guts somersaulting. “Wait, what?”

Tanaka stared back at him. “Uh, you know, like you wanna kiss him and hold him in your big strong arms?”

“Ryuu!” Nishinoya hissed, eyes wide. He slapped his hand over Tanaka's mouth. “Not so loud, man! Who the hell told you that?” Tanaka raised his eyebrows and Nishinoya moved his hands.

“Um, _you_ did, sugarplum. You look at him the same way you look at Shimizu-chan. Maybe worse, if I'm honest.” He shrugged. “Though, okay, in fairness, Chikara noticed first, and I think Sugawara did too, but he says that Azumane-kun has it bad for you as well, so—”

“Oh my god, _what_?” Nishinoya hissed, looking over Tanaka's shoulder as if everyone might come running at any moment. “You all—you guys all talk about us? What the hell, dude?”

“No, no,” Tanaka said. “Not like that, Yuu, chill out—”

“Chill out?” Yuu shouted.

Tanaka grabbed him and pushed him backwards, into an empty room. “Dude,” he said, grabbing Nishinoya's face in both hands. “You gotta stop freaking out. Sorry, man, I think I explained wrong, okay?”

Nishinoya took a deep breath. “Okay?”

“Look, Chikara asked me if I'd noticed anything going on with you guys, that's all. He's just thinking about the team, you know?”

“You mean like, what's it gonna do to the team when I'm a gross pervert who can't keep his eyes off his underclassmen?”

Tanaka eyebrows shot up. “Uh, no, dude, not at all. He's just worried about you guys.” Tanaka laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “And it's really kinda cute how dense you both are. It's like you're dating and you don't know it.”

Nishinoya shook his head. “What—the hell?”

“Look, would you just talk to him?”

“Chikara?”

Tanaka slapped the side of his head. “Idiot! Asahi! Just tell him you like him.”

“But—”

“Yuu,” Tanaka said, putting both hands on Nishinoya’s shoulders again. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Nishinoya wrinkled his nose, but apparently Tanaka knew what he was thinking about, because he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Apart from that time, we don't talk about that time.”

 

 

The day after the shower incident, Asahi couldn't look Nishinoya in the face. That might have been a problem at regular morning and afternoon practice; at camp, it was a disaster. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal for the practice matches. After all, the wing spiker wasn’t tied to a libero the way they were to a setter. Yet, somehow, the whole team’s rhythm was shot. 

Nishinoya spent the entire morning trying to catch Asahi’s eye, desperate to get him on his own so he could apologise, but Asahi seemed to have suddenly mastered the ability to become invisible. Nishinoya constantly felt as if there were eyes on his back, but every time he looked over he found Asahi talking to Sugawara, or staring at the floor, hidden behind his hair.

By lunchtime Nishinoya was sick of the sympathetic glances he was getting off the rest of the team. Sugawara in particular seemed keen to translate to Nishinoya via his big doe eyes that he was sorry. Whatever that meant in this situation. 

Nishinoya just did his best to ignore all of them. There were a lot of things he couldn’t change; he couldn’t change that he was in his third year and still the smallest on the team; he couldn’t change the fact that he’d embarrassed Asahi; he couldn’t change himself and stop having a pervy crush on an underclassman, at least not right away. What he _could_ do was receive balls, and he threw himself into doing that to the best of his ability. 

At lunchtime he raced outside with Tanaka and found a seat in the grass before anyone else. He wouldn’t make Asahi uncomfortable by sitting too close; this way it was up to him how close they were. Nishinoya tried not to feel disappointed when Asahi and the other second years settled away from the rest of the group, under the shade of a nearby tree. 

“Chin up, sunflower,” Tanaka said, punching him in the shoulder. 

Nishinoya grinned at him. “No harm, Ryuu.”

After lunch, Ennoshita drew him aside on the way back into the gym. “Sorry, Yuu,” he said, looking small and contrite. “I didn't mean to fuck things up with you guys.”

“You didn't,” Nishinoya said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I did that all myself.” He grinned. “And don't fucking swear, Captain.”

For the rest of the day, Nishinoya kept his mind on volleyball. He encouraged the first years, correcting their receiving technique between sets, and made sure he was first off the charge for diving drills every time they lost and had to take a penalty. He cheered the loudest for every point they took, especially when it was Asahi that scored. 

After the matches were over, he and Tanaka walked with a couple of guys from the Nekoma team to a convenience store nearby to fill their pockets with snacks. Nishinoya hesitated before buying a big bag of gummies for the first years to share, and a little bag of mochi.

“Oooh, can I have one?” Tanaka asked in a wheedling tone when he saw what Nishinoya was holding. When he held them out of the way, Tanaka wailed and pawed at his arm. “C’mon, man, don’t be stingy—”

“They’re for Asahi-kun,” Nishinoya said, not caring that he sounded sniffy and prudish. “Get your own.”

Tanaka’s face lit up, going from devastated to excited in seconds. “Oh yeah? For Asahi-kun, huh? Hey, does he even like sweets?”

“Sh—shut up, Ryuu,” Nishinoya hissed, shoving them in his jacket pocket and hoping they wouldn’t melt too much. “It’s just to apologise.”

“Eh, well,” Tanaka said, shrugging. He stretched his arms up over his head, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “If you really want to make it up to him, you should let him see you naked.”

“ _What?_ ” Noya yelled.

The two Nekoma players turned back to look at him, their heads tilted curiously. “Who’s naked?” 

“Crap,” Tanaka muttered. “I forgot cats have such good hearing.”

Nishinoya snorted. “Well if he wants that, he’s welcome to look. I’m not half as impressive with my clothes off as Asahi though.”

“Dude. TMI.”

“Not like _that_ , dude—”

Tanaka stuck his fingers in his ears. “Not listening!”

 

 

By some creepy unspoken agreement, as soon as Nishinoya stumbled upon the second years talking in the deserted canteen, Sawamura and Sugawara immediately made excuses to leave. 

“Guys—come on, guys,” Asahi moaned, flushing crimson when they just walked to the door despite his protests. Sugawara glanced back and gave them both a cheerful wave, which made Asahi squawk in annoyance. 

“Um, sorry,” Nishinoya said awkwardly when they’d gone. “I’m not gonna keep you for a long time, and I promise I’m trying my best not to embarrass you again. I thought maybe I was just bad at embarrassing you in front of other people but uh—well I guess I do it when we’re on our own as well. I’m really sorry, Asahi-kun.”

He looked up finally, though he kept his hands clenched behind his back, the little paper bag clutched in his left hand. Asahi watched him with a curious, tender gaze. Nishinoya had expected him to look nervous, or angry, but not this. 

“Why are you sorry?” he murmured, looking up at Nishinoya with wide eyes. 

Nishinoya tried not to notice how pretty Asahi’s eyes were. He must have showered while Nishinoya visited the store with the others because his hair was still damp, hanging loose around his face. It swept past his chin now, making his face look softer, his eyes bigger. Though that could have been the darkness. The canteen lights were off, so the room was lit only by the lights in the hallway, and the moonlight coming in through the large windows. Nishinoya could see why they had chosen to leave the lights off; the moon was almost as bright as daylight, except for the way it cast darker shadows over everything. Nishinoya found his eyes drawn to the hollow of Asahi’s throat, and he wondered if his skin was still damp as well as his hair. 

“Uhh—shit, I, uh—I guess,” Nishinoya stammered, “for embarrassing you? Last night? I—I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, I’m sorry for that. I just wasn’t expecting you to be there like that, and it surprised me, I guess. Ryuu said I should let you walk in on me to get revenge or payback or whatever and I guess that would be okay if you want, but I wouldn’t be embarrassed by you looking at me so I don’t know if it’s the same thing.” He trailed off when he noticed that Asahi was just staring at him, his expression open and dazed. 

“Noya-san,” he said in a low, wondering voice that made Nishinoya’s insides shiver.

“I hope you like sweets!” Nishinoya said quickly. He thrust his arm forward, holding the bag of mochi in front of Asahi’s face. “I brought you this, I hope you like them. You can just share them with the others if not, I don’t mind, but they’re my favourite sweet, and I wanted you to know that I was sorry, and—”

Asahi took the bag from him gently and Nishinoya shut his mouth. He watched, paralysed, while Asahi opened the bag and looked inside. One corner of his mouth curved gently. “Mochi?”

Nishinoya nodded eagerly. “I hope they’re not melted yet, we walked back quickly from the shop, I wanted to give them to you before they got too warm.”

“This—this is so nice,” Asahi whispered, crumpling the bag closed. He looked up at Nishinoya, shifting forward on the bench. “I—I wasn’t mad at you,” he murmured, holding Nishinoya’s gaze for a moment before glancing away. 

“You weren’t?” Nishinoya breathed. “Oh, good, I was worried that you hated me.”

Asahi bit his lip. He took a couple of deep breaths before he spoke again, and it looked as if the effort of finding the words was giving him difficulty. “You’re always so nice to me,” he said at last. “But you’re nice to everyone else, too. I shouldn’t—um, I think that I expect too much from you.”

“Like what?” Nishinoya asked curiously, skirting around to sit beside him on the bench. Seated, Asahi was still taller than him, but not by much. When Asahi didn’t reply, Nishinoya felt himself throw caution to the wind. He took the bag of sweets from Asahi’s loose grasp and held his hand in his own instead. “I can’t think of anything you could ask for that I wouldn’t give you, Asahi.”

Even in the moonlight, Nishinoya could see the way a blush spread across Asahi’s cheeks. 

“This isn’t like lending me some lunch money or your favourite DVD,” Asahi said quietly. 

“Or letting you see me naked?” he teased, unable to help himself. Sure enough, Asahi’s blush deepened beautifully. Nishinoya squeezed his hand and grinned. “Come on, try me.”

Asahi sighed, long and weary. “Okay, but I’m only going to say this because Suga will remember forever and haunt me if I don’t.”

Nishinoya laughed loudly. “Okay, noted.” He waited patiently, but Asahi just continued to stare down at their joined hands. “Um, Asahi-kun?”

Asahi took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut. “Okay, alright, here goes.” He looked up finally, catching Nishinoya with the moonlight reflected in his eyes. “I like you, Nishinoya.”

“Uhh, yeah, I like you too.”

Asahi groaned. “No, I mean I _like_ you.” He moved closer, reaching up to capture Nishinoya's face between his hands. “I'm sorry, I know I'm taking liberties,” he whispered, studying Nishinoya's face in the dim light. “I—I won't be so disrespectful again, it's just that I like you so much, Noya-san. I'm sorry, I just really like you, I can't stop—”

“Asahi,” Nishinoya said, amazed to find that his mouth still worked, and that it was still taking directions from his brain. His thoughts were buzzing, and his chest and stomach were both full of a shaking, panicked sensation. _I want to kiss him_ , he thought, wondering how he’d never realised that before. Asahi’s thumb traced over his cheekbone and Nishinoya found that he couldn’t remember how to breathe. 

“Noya—”

“Ah!” Nishinoya said at the same time, remembering the sweets. “Mochi!”

Asahi frowned. “Huh?”

“Here!” Nishinoya turned and Asahi let go of his face, which was okay because his cheeks were _burning_ and Asahi’s hands were so warm. This way he could cool down a little. “Here, try one!” he said, opening the bag and pulling out one of the mochi balls. “Ah—you do like them, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” Asahi said, looking bewildered. He opened his mouth slightly and Nishinoya felt himself go crimson. It was no good. He couldn’t _not_ blush around Asahi, apparently. With trembling fingers, he held the sweet up to Asahi’s mouth and pressed it against his bottom lip. 

Asahi took the mochi ball gently between his teeth, biting it in half. For a second, his lips closed around Nishinoya’s fingertips. 

Nishinoya put the other half in his mouth, barely remembering to chew before he swallowed it.

“They’re good,” Asahi whispered. “Thank you.”

“Asahi. Would you—can I—”

“ _Yes_ —”

Shifting forward, Nishinoya held onto Asahi's arms and leaned up to kiss him. 

Asahi sighed against his lips, a soft sound that made Nishinoya’s heart clench. 

“ _Noya—_ ”

“Get down here, you giant,” Nishinoya murmured, tugging on his arms. 

Asahi bent down and softly touched Noya's mouth with his own again. It was gentle and sweet, like almost every first kiss Nishinoya had shared with someone, and he shivered with pleasure when he felt Asahi trembling against him. 

“Asahi,” he murmured, pulling back just a little. “Is this your first kiss?” 

Blushing, Asahi nodded. “Is it terrible?”

Nishinoya shook his head. “It's incredible,” he said, pushing his fingers into Asahi's hair and leaning in to kiss him again. He gently parted Asahi's lips with his tongue and felt Asahi twitch when the tips of their tongues brushed together. Asahi didn't seem to know where to put his hands, so Nishinoya reached for them and placed one on his hip, the other on his back. 

Asahi took the hint, drawing him closer and letting Nishinoya kiss him more deeply. Nishinoya groaned when Asahi's damp hair spilled loose through his fingertips, and Asahi mirrored the noise when Nishinoya’s tongue pushed into his mouth. 

“Oh—” Asahi gasped, breaking their lips apart. “We probably shouldn’t do this here.”

Nishinoya groaned and pressed his forehead against Asahi’s. “No,” he agreed. “We really shouldn’t.”

Asahi nuzzled the side of his face, his stubble scratchy against Nishinoya’s cheek. “Do I still get to see you in the shower?” he murmured.

 

 

Asahi was waiting for him at the school gate when Nishinoya came running out, his Gakuran flapping wide over his t-shirt, and his diploma bouncing haphazardly in his bag. Asahi spread his arms wide and Nishinoya jumped into them, letting Asahi swing him around. 

“You say goodbye to everyone?” Asahi asked quietly, setting him down at last.

Nishinoya nodded. He shrugged his gakuran off his shoulders so that Asahi could admire the back of his shirt, covered with marker pen scrawl. “Asahi,” he said solemnly. “Don’t be jealous, but I kissed a whole bunch of cute girls.”

Asahi hummed and slipped an arm around his shoulders. “Mhmm. Anyone I know?”

“Prob’ly not,” Nishinoya said, swaying into his side. They walked a little way down the road, wordlessly heading for Asahi’s parents’ house, where they would have the place to themselves for a couple of hours. “Are you sad to see the third years leaving, Asahi-kun?”

Asahi smiled and ran his thumb over the soft skin behind Nishinoya’s ear. “Kinda,” he said, looking down at him. “But it’s nice too. Daichi’s gonna be a great captain.”

“Yeah, he will be.”

“Mm. And you know what else?”

“What’s that?”

Asahi grinned. “I’m gonna be dating a college student.”

Nishinoya laughed. “Yeah? Anyone I know? They better not be cuter than me.”

“I think you’d like him,” Asahi said steadily. “You’ve got the same sense of humour.”

“Aw, Asahi, you think I have a sense of humour?”

“You’re best friends with Tanaka-san,” Asahi pointed out, as a means to explain everything.

Nishinoya grabbed for his hand. “You’ve got me there.”

“Noya,” Asahi murmured, blushing when Nishinoya began to swing their joined hands between them as they walked. 

“Yeah, tell me more about your cute college boyfriend—”

Asahi snorted. “I didn’t say he was cute.”

“You’re cute. I extrapolated from there.”

“Extrapolated is a pretty big word, Noya.”

“I’m a college student now, Asahi.”

“Funny coincidence—”

“Shut it.”

**Author's Note:**

> [@notallballs on tumblr](notallballs.tumblr.com)
> 
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> I make art, fic, and I ship a whole bunch of rarepairs. Come say hi!


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